


Be at Peace

by Glitteringworlds



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitteringworlds/pseuds/Glitteringworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard not to look back at what's been left behind, though Hawke should know better by now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be at Peace

Hawke is the first one to look back and see the flames.

It doesn’t break her, because at this point if Kirkwall was going to break her it already would have, it would have chewed her up and swallowed her splintered bones.

But it does hurt.

Bethany talks quietly with Merrill a few yards away, both of them hovering worriedly but trying to give Hawke some space. She can’t tell exactly what they are saying, because everything in her head is still buzzing, but she can make out “some time,” and “through a lot,” and “not the first time.”

No, it wasn’t the first time, was it? Not the first time she had run away from the ruins of her town, not the first time she had left everything behind. Certainly not the first time she had killed someone to stop them from killing others.

She was getting a little tired of that one.

Hawke gets to her feet, a shaky little sigh escaping her despite her best efforts. Merrill flutters over to her, tiny hands on her hands, on her arm, running down the plates of her armor as if it was flesh, as if Hawke could feel it. When Hawke looks at Merrill, there are tears in her eyes, and isn’t that just the strangest thing.

Hawke hadn’t been able to cry at all.

But Merrill cries, quiet little tears that run down her cheeks as if they are following the lines of her tattoos.

"I’m sorry," Hawke says, and she doesn’t know why she says it. She has a million reasons to apologize, but she can’t pick one out, she just knows that she has to, that she has to say something, that guilt has settled around her shoulders and wrapped around her neck. The words are quiet. Half-choked.

"Oh, Hawke." 

Merrill stares at Hawke for a moment, and then gently pulls her down, standing on tip-toes and kissing her forehead.

"Dar atisha, ma vhenan."

**Author's Note:**

> Merrill's line basically translates as "be at peace, my heart"


End file.
